


It Could Be Worse

by InkuisitivSkins



Series: LivMiles Drabbles / Prompts [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Grumpy Olivier, Military, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 00:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10978989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkuisitivSkins/pseuds/InkuisitivSkins
Summary: The central heater of Briggs goes kaput, and Olivier in particular isn't enjoying it. It has the opposite effect on her, actually.





	It Could Be Worse

**Author's Note:**

> For a "Send me a number and I'll write you a drabble" askmeme on tumblr, #16-- "It could be worse."

The mechanic straightened with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. He was the third one the general had called in to try and fix the central heating system of the fort, though it was to no avail.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said as he produced a handkerchief from his utility belt to clean the grease from his wrench. “We’ll need to order a new part from Central to regulate this hunk of junk’s output.”

“Piece of shit,” Olivier grumbled. “How long will it take for it to ship?”

“If you don’t mind using a bit of the fort’s budget for an expedited delivery,” the mechanic began, turning to her. He had to look down slightly due to their height difference. “Three days, at most. Would you like me to telegraph the order to HQ?”

“Yes, and be quick about it for god’s sake,” the general replied, already spinning on her heels to head back to her office, her adjutant in tow behind her.

Miles hurried to match her brisk pace without fully stepping on her heels. She was nearly a foot shorter than him, so her footsteps were quicker, and as a result, it was often difficult for soldiers to match her step when in formation. It was always an amusing sight to see them trip over each other. He remained silent as to not agitate her any further.

Olivier really disliked stuffy weather and humidity, so when the heating system went haywire and started drastically raising the temperature of the Briggs wall, she holed herself up in her office and turned on as many fans as possible. Miles had even offered to bring her meals directly to her rather than her making the trek down to the mess hall. He always told her how he was more than willing to have her vent to him, and this was one of the rare times she did– complaining to him for a solid hour as she did necessarily paperwork and made herself useful while trying to keep cool. “The stench of the men in their sweaty uniforms is making me sick to my god damn stomach,” she’d huff. The major would suppress a laugh and simply nod, allowing her to continue.

They got to her office and she shut the door behind him. Finally, he spoke up– “I know this is a real pain, General, but it could be worse.”

“I suppose,” Olivier exhaled through her teeth as she shrugged off her heavy coat. Miles simply watched her, carefully making sure it didn’t seem as if he was making eyes at her. She hung her coat up on the coat hanger next to her door and made her way over to her desk, turning on a fan as she began to unbutton her uniform shirt. She was making a fuss about something, but her adjutant’s mind was somewhere else. Carelessly, she dropped the shirt onto her desk and went to the center of the room in her undershirt. It wasn’t anything impressive or scandalous; simply the military-issue, tight, black shirt.

Miles always enjoyed seeing her like this, partially because she was so physically secretive, also because (he would never say it out loud, she’d murder him) she was rather cute. Attractive would be the more obvious adjective, but Miles always tended to think on the more innocent side of things.

She turned away from him and lifted her arm to try and turn on the ceiling fan, giving a little hop as she tried to reach the chain. She wasn’t even close to the typical definition of thin– she had a bit of a tummy she complained about never being able to get rid of, and there was always the ever-present issue of there not being any uniform shirts that really seemed to fit her chest. Miles, however, loved the way she looked, and always felt as if it were a treasure any time he was blessed with seeing her in such a state. Olivier gave another hop to try and reach the chain, her back muscles shifting just visibly enough through her shirt.

“Get that,” she ordered him casually as she vengefully eyed the chord that hung just out of her reach. 

“Right,” Miles stammered as he made his way over to her, pulling the chord and starting the fan with ease.

She looked him up and down, eyebrows furrowed. “Take off that coat,” she said as she made her way over to her desk, making sure to pull up a chair for him. “I don’t want you to get a heat stroke and die just because Central won’t replace our ancient heater. “

He wordlessly obliged, shedding his coat and placing it next to hers on the hanger. He knew she wouldn’t mind since they could technically be considered friends beyond colleagues now, so he unbuttoned and took off his uniform shirt as well, setting it aside, also wearing a similar undershirt. The black, tight ones with full sleeves were popular among Briggs soldiers due to them trapping body heat and protecting the wearer from the cold. He took his seat across from her and attempted to busy himself in his own work– though the feeling of eyes on him caused him to glance up again.

Olivier blinked at him, her expression calm yet calculating. “You’ve been working out more.”

Miles could feel the blush creep up from his neck to his cheeks. Despite his dark complexion, she was sure to notice. “O-oh, yes, sir.”

The blonde’s lips curled into a smile, her air collected yet playful. He’d say her smile was closer to a smirk. “You look good.”

“Thank you, sir.” _Don’t look into it. She doesn’t mean anything by it._

“You know, I think this heat will be bearable if I have this view to keep me busy,” she remarked as she continued her paperwork.

_Oh my god._


End file.
